


Dangers of speaking

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Category: Boyfriend Material - Alexis Hall
Genre: Affection, Awkwardness, Communication, Fluff, Kissing, Luc is determined, Luver, M/M, Not beta’d we die like Daisy in the filing cabinet, POV First Person, POV Luc O’Donnell, Post-Canon, Saying stuff out loud is harder than one might think, they are happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: “No need,” I made sure to speak seriously enough that he’d get it, but not too severe that he’d think I was still upset. “It was a booking at a restaurant, not a wedding ceremony.”I did not make a joke about a runaway bride and it felt like a personal accomplishment. Jokes are about timing, even I was aware of that. And right then it was most definitely not the time.An accidental slip of the tongue ends with awkward confessions and the both of them opening up. Luc and Oliver are vulnerable together.
Relationships: Oliver Blackwood/Luc O'Donnell
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	Dangers of speaking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/gifts).



> **Blue** , this is for you. 🥺🥺🥺  
>   
> I was thinking about a specific part of the book and one detail couldn't leave me alone. A feeling of needing resolution of sorts was there...and it felt better after putting it all to words.  
>   
> Then I thought, maybe, you will feel the same, Blue and will like it. 💙💙💙
> 
> * * *
> 
> Dear reader, I hope you will enjoy another fluff installment for Boyfriend Material. 💙  
>   
> I swear I haven't abandoned my SnowBaz deadlines. Although, this does seem more and more like extremely suspicious behaviour on my part.  
>   
> Also, I am planning another gift fic for Blue and pretty please will someone maybe want to beta read it for me? 🥺🥺🥺 I am looking for someone who is 18+, the fic might be rated M.
> 
> * * *

# Luc

Due to my lack of finesse and foresight, I accidentally told Oliver that I had a reservation to Quo Vadis for the day after his parents’ do.

It was our first weekend after getting back together. Or getting together, officially without any pretence of ulterior motives.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Oliver went all quiet, his brow furrowed, his eyes riddled with awful guilt. “I can not express how sorry I am, Lucien.”

We were finishing our breakfast and joking about something when I let it slip without thinking.

God. For someone who’s really good at his job, I am an utter disgrace when it comes to social skills in my private life.

I took in his pained, self-wounded expression and tried to backtrack from this whole mess as quickly as possible.

“No need,” I made sure to speak seriously enough that he’d get it, but not too severe that he’d think I was still upset. “It was a booking at a restaurant, not a wedding ceremony.”

I did not make a joke about a runaway bride and it felt like a personal accomplishment. Jokes are about timing, even I was aware of that. And right then it was most definitely not the time.

“No. But you did that for me...for _us_ ,” he spoke slowly, his eyes still pools of sadness.

Trying to do the whole consoling thing I still didn't know how to exactly, I reached over the table and placed my hand over his.

Oliver looked at my hand for a moment before turning his palm up. I took the opportunity to lace our fingers as much as the surface of the table would allow, hoping this was the correct way of soothing him.

His eyes came up to meet mine. He wasn’t back to his prior cheerful demeanour. Nonetheless, I think it was getting better due to the whole hand holding thing.

We’ve been doing a fair amount of that. It wasn't awkward holding Oliver’s hand. It was _amazing_ actually. Not that I was in any way capable of saying that.

Did I need therapy, I wondered briefly. We probably both did.

“Well, since we haven’t actually gone, I haven’t done it. And anyway, you would have most likely thought me to be a creepy weirdo if we went there,” I confessed, since we've been all about honesty, opening up and shit for exactly one week now and somehow I haven't fucked that up yet.

It was pure torture — the honesty and vulnerability bit. But y’know, also kind of nice.

“Lucien— “ I recognised all the soft feelings on his face I so loved seeing directed at me but also the sad ones, those I didn’t enjoy in the slightest. “ —I would never think that about you, or at the very least I’d share that description _with_ you. It would have been...perfect.”

“And extremely sentimental on my part.”

“I thought you hated our first date,” he then argued, because he's Oliver, his face tensing up. “Because I was too much and not who you wanted at the time.”

“No. I mean, I didn't think that you weren't who I wanted. I didn’t hate the date and you weren’t too much. Okay, you were at times more than a little annoying. But I didn’t hate that,” I admitted, taking a deep breath. In for a penny. “What I hated was how _good_ it felt when your leg touched mine, when you called me ‘Lucien’ and when your face lit up and your eyes went soft.”

This was embarrassing to state out loud. That says a lot given that Oliver and I have opened up quite much, did the whole ILY and then some. On more than one occasion.

We’ve had a week worth of lying in bed at night, with desperate _I missed you_ snogging and shagging, whispering love confessions into each other’s skin.

Oliver Blackwood has made me an extremely sappy man. And if I were to be entirely truthful with myself, it scared me far less than it did before and less than I thought it would. Still scared me though.

“Really?” he asked, not quite cheerful, but perhaps hopeful, and in a complete Oliver manner going all nervous and self-conscious. “You liked it when I...that is...when we...”

His eyes shined silver with that softness I’ve only ever seen directed at me and never wanted to lose.

The old me would not have handled this the right way, that much I knew.

However, even though I was both terrified and embarrassed, I was going to keep repeating every word of affection to him until Oliver started believing it the first time around.

“Yes, really. You were _wonderful_ , Oliver. I could see that even then, despite you tiresomely trying to prove me otherwise with all of your smugness and substantial knowledge about everything you were all too happy to share in full.”

This time Oliver did laugh, a low chuckle. But it was more than enough.

I squeezed his hand just in case, possibly reassuringly? Fuck did I know about intimacy. I was learning on the go. “It didn't take though. I ended up loving your know-it-all nature most of all.”

Suddenly he went all serious before speaking. Which didn't actually mean it’d be bad news. That's just how he talked. I've gotten used to that by now.

“I was looking very much forward to that date, worried about ruining it by doing something wrong. I never thought you’d give me a chance.”

He paused and thought for a while before continuing, “So when Bridget said… Well, I couldn’t believe my luck and got too nervous, while trying to make everything perfect and I suppose ruined things anyway.”

Oh the sincerity. It goes both ways. Surprisingly I was genuinely grateful Oliver wanted to share, wanted to let me in.

I always…alright, not always, but for the last five plus years, I hated both having feelings and talking about them.

And look at me now.

Currently sitting at the kitchen table with my boyfriend, holding hands, opening up. No one is running away or hiding in the bathroom.

I suppose it was my cue to tell Oliver... _stuff_.

“You haven’t. I was a complete disaster that day. And I assumed you weren’t into me,” I chuckled and then remembered something I haven't thought about for a long time. “Wait a minute, Oliver. You wanted nothing to do with me from the beginning.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked genuinely surprised, “I’ve told you _specifically_ less than a month into our…”

Oliver rubbed at one temple despairingly with his free hand. A gesture I now knew meant he was confused and at a loss for words, and not disappointed in me as a person, as I’ve been so sure was the case.

I am not entirely sure why I believed he was in the first place. I guess I was used to people being constantly disappointed with me.

“Fake dating arrangement that felt real to the both of us and yet we were too cowardly to do anything substantial about,” I offered, helpfully.

“Thank you for the recap, Lucien,” he replied, his mouth twitched into a smile.

“Anytime, I'm gracious like that,” came out with a smirk on my part.

I had to smirk. Oliver might have turned me into the kind of guy who is constantly giving him heart emoji eyes. But I was still a bit of an arse and I think he likes me like that.

“What I was trying to convey— ” another smile directed at me, and a nervous swallow, “ —that I’ve told you back then how I was terrified you’d find me ridiculous if you knew just how much I liked you.”

“Yes, but that came later. When you and I met for the first time, you didn’t like me at all.”

I wasn't bitter about it or anything. I wouldn't have liked me back then either. Although, we haven't even spoken yet. It seemed a tad premature to dislike me, before speaking to me first, if you ask me.

“That’s not true.”

“Bridge’s work party. You were standing next to me while I was trying not to ogle you and someone asked if we were a couple. You had looked utterly disgusted, and replied, “No, this is just another homosexual I’m standing next to.” Which could not be interpreted as anything else than you stating how you were very much out of my league.”

For a brief moment nothing but confusion was written all over his face.

“Oh Lucien, I believe I own you an apology. That wasn’t a subtle way of humiliating you. I got offended someone assumed two gay people standing next to each other are automatically a couple. It felt at the very least slightly homophobic.”

Oh. That's—

I should not have grinned after hearing Oliver say those things to me the way I did — like a complete maniac — displaying a full set of teeth and all.

He wasn't repulsed by me then. Not that it mattered to me.

Okay, it did matter. _Some_.

I suppose, knowing Oliver for this long, I should have realized I was wrong from the start. Reading him is an acquired skill. One I’ve not mastered fully yet, but close enough.

“I guess there was one other way to interpret that then,” I mumbled, trying not to show how happy I was and failing miserably.

“Indeed.” I'm pretty sure he was the one teasing me now with the smugness of his voice.

“Just so you know, the person in question probably thought that Bridget, being in a relationship herself, invited another couple to her work party. Many often assume couples cannot be friends with single people. Which is offensive as well, just not the homophobic kind of offensive.”

His face took on an utterly sheepish expression. Embarrassed Oliver was peak entertainment. As long as he wasn’t heartbroken about it, that is.

“At times I seem to draw conclusions that aren’t accurate.”

The tips of his ears turned slightly pink and he looked absolutely adorable.

“Yes, Oliver, only at times. For the rest, you are _always_ right.”

I chuckled and brought his hand to my lips, kissing it, so he’d know I was only teasing. And not the bad kind of teasing.

Oliver’s cheeks darkened, his face turning bright and delighted. The way it was before this whole unfortunate conversation happened.

Although I had to admit, it was nice to know he wasn’t appalled by me the first time we met. What can I say, I am both needy and insecure.

“Lucien, would you still want to go on a date to Quo Vadis, or has the moment already passed?” Oliver sounded small and uncertain when he asked.

Despite the fact that I've literally told him that I love him, that I think we're right for each other, that it's him I want, Oliver still seemed so vulnerable and unsure around me.

As if he thought time apart has changed something between us. Erased what we’ve had.

That’s the kind of low self-esteem I imagined I was the only one capable of.

Truthfully I am not entirely sure if having an equally insecure boyfriend is better or worse, but I wouldn’t want anyone but him regardless.

I do hope, with time, he’d learn to trust that my love doesn’t come with any expectations or guilt trips or treating him badly for the sake of it.

I enjoy teasing Oliver, however, I’d never hurt him on purpose or make him feel awful about himself, thinking he's not enough somehow.

Therefore swallowing my own uncertainty, I stood up and walked around the table, placing myself firmly into his lap. Something I would have never dared doing before, worried it’d make me seem too needy. 

Oliver smiled and wrapped his arms around me, in that enfoldy sort of way he was so good at and I loved.

I couldn't hide the shiver of pleasure that ran down my body at his touch. I didn't try to either.

We’ve kissed instead of talking, my mouth chasing his, hopefully making him feel as _precious_ as he made me.

It was the kind of soft kiss I didn't realise I was craving with my whole being until I've got it from Oliver. I didn't want it to end, and so my lips were making promises I very much intended on keeping.

“I’d like to go,” I whispered between kisses, “as our own sort of anniversary, to reminisce about the imperfect perfect first date we shared there.”

The sudden softness of my words apart, I spoke with the iron conviction of a person who has fallen in love so deeply, they were willing to talk about feelings and shit without any regrets.

Opening one’s heart fully and sharing everything that's inside, no matter how scary that felt. And it did. It terrified me completely.

There was, however, one redeeming aspect to this wholly new and frightening situation — Oliver was worth it to me.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 💙


End file.
